


face all the pain and take it on

by midnightstorm



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys - My Chemical Romance (Album), Fall Out Boy, The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anger, Angst, Blood and Injury, Death, I'm Sorry, Kinda, M/M, Sad Ending, have fun with this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26545669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightstorm/pseuds/midnightstorm
Summary: one perfect summer can't prevent tragedy from striking (and it does)
Relationships: Kobra Kid & Mr. Sandman (Fall Out Boy), Kobra Kid/Mr. Sandman (Fall Out Boy)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	face all the pain and take it on

**Author's Note:**

> i came up with this idea when i was listening to The Only Hope for Me Is You. i probably won't post any more regularly, but i promise i do have ideas for what happens next. also, the nature of their relationship is up to you :) have fun with the sadness.

The summer had been perfect in its own way. Sure, they had run into some issues - namely dracs - and living in the desert in the height of summer wasn’t exactly the most comfortable thing. But all these are the perils of being a killjoy. It wasn’t all bad; in fact, firefights without a partner can be lonely, not to mention the beautiful, yet empty, desert sunsets. Summer had been better when shared by two. But as the sun faded into the desert sand, and the couple clutched their jackets tighter against a swirling breeze, they saw that everything had to end. And so, it did.

But as the Kobra Kid dodged the falling fragments of the charred building, wildly brushing off the burning embers from his hair, and jacket, he began to realise that the shadows thrown by the summer sun were longer than they seemed. He stumbled, choking in the thick grey smoke, towards a limp figure, partially obscured by a heap of rubble. The closer he got, the surer he became of the figure’s identity. Someone he could never have forgotten. Slowing down, Kobra approached him, ducking under a smouldering wooden beam, before cautiously kneeling down in the ash.

A pair of wide brown eyes stared back. “Kobra? Kobra Kid? Is it you? I-” the man convulsed slightly, coughing violently. A small crimson trail of blood made its way across his cheek as he gasped for air. Kobra didn’t reply, wasting no time in grabbing bricks and concrete from the pile that was evidently crushing him, desperately shovelling the chunks of rock from on top of him to the ground. The debris from the top of the heap kept slipping down; this was no easy task. As Kobra grabbed at the wreckage more frantically, the man rasped out “Stop… there’s no point. You should leave while you have the chance.” Kobra gritted his teeth, scrabbling harder in a fruitless effort to free him.

“Kobra! Listen to me!” At this hoarse shout, Kobra drew back, panting, and glared at the man. “What’s wrong with me trying to save you, Sandman?” he spat out, wiping his dust-coated palms on his jacket. Mr Sandman sighed in exasperation. “I know we both remember summer, Kobra. We can’t just avoid that. I told you to use my name, my _real_ name then, and I want you to use it now. Stop pretending nothing happened between us, please-” He trailed off into another coughing fit; this time spraying the fractured concrete with scarlet droplets. Kobra sprung forward again, “Fine, _Pete,_ ” - Pete smirked slightly - “Now help me shift this.”

After continuing his assault on the mass of rubble for a few seconds, he sank to the ground, breath coming in heavy puffs. “Why aren’t you helping?! The sooner we get out of here, the better.”

Pete smiled bitterly, closing his eyes for a second, while the shadows of the remaining skeletal skyscraper frames flickered slightly over his face. The moment dragged out, Kobra staring fixedly at Pete, who finally opened his mouth and said, “It’s too late. I mean it. You should run.” The rattle of his weakening breath grated on Kobra’s ears like the scrape of fingernails on the edge of a tin can. Almost imperceivably, he shook his head and resumed parting the tide of debris that had engulfed Pete, panting in desperation.

“Stop, Kobra. I’ve lost almost all the feeling in my legs. The pain is slowly fading from my breath, we both know that my life has to follow soon.” Pete said.

“Please-”

“Know that you couldn’t have done anything to stop this. I know that you’re stubborn as hell, so there’s no use in asking you to leave.” His voice was getting fainter by the second, so that Kobra had to lean in closer to hear the rough whisper. “Reach into my right jacket pocket, there should be a piece of paper in there.” Kobra did so, shuddering violently as he felt the stickiness of Pete’s blood on his fingertips. He gingerly drew out the messily folded sheet of paper. “Good. Give that to Poison,” Kobra’s lips formed a question, but Pete cut him off, “he’ll know what to do, trust me.” His voice was almost imperceptible, and he shakily drew in a last breath, looking Kobra directly in the eye. “I’m glad our summer could be the last good thing for me. Promise you’ll remember me?” Kobra nodded fiercely, fists clenched and nails digging into his palms. “Stay strong, Kobra, stay defiant. Stay as you are and don’t let anyone convince you to change that. We’ll meet again, when the Phoenix Witch guides your soul through the night. Until then, keep running, Kobra Kid. Keep running…”

A faint smile ghosted Pete’s lips as he hissed out his final breath, his limp frame sagging underneath the crushing weight of the wreckage. Kobra stood in place for a few moments, frozen in disbelief, before he forced himself away; away from the heap, away from the aftermath of the battle, away from the realisation of his own loss. The thud of his boots on the scorched tarmac echoed in the desolate scene, as he allowed the sparks and embers to fall on him, burning slightly. He didn’t notice the sensation, his mind too focused on absence, regrets and the fading shadow of a friend he didn’t know how to let go of.


End file.
